


Something Borrowed, Something Blue

by safarikalamari



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Banter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Canon Universe, Crossdressing, Disguise, Emotions, First Time, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Injury, M/M, Minor Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot, Smut, Timeline What Timeline, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Undercover Missions, Yennefer is a bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/safarikalamari
Summary: Yennefer "needs" Jaskier's help and he agrees to go along with it.He should've known Geralt would show up unexpectedly.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt wasn’t sure when his new normal had turned into this. 

His mornings were waking up to Jaskier’s smiling face and Geralt fell asleep to gentle humming every night. Jaskier never ran out of things to say, filling in the gaps where Geralt didn’t know how to reply. As opposite as they were, there was a familiarity that Geralt found he didn’t want to lose. He cared for Jaskier and it had been love from the start. 

Geralt was content keeping that to himself. He wasn’t one for poetry like Jaskier, nor grand gestures as he’d seen among his brothers. As long as Jaskier was healthy and happy, Geralt figured that was enough for the both of them.

So, they traveled on together, a sight for all to behold. 

The wind started to change one autumn afternoon as Geralt and Jaskier came across a village that needed Geralt’s help. The problem was easy enough–for a witcher that is–and Geralt was practically done within an hour. He wanted to move on, but Jaskier didn’t

“We aren’t usually offered a room this nice and the company is pleasant too.”

Geralt couldn’t give a damn about the company. He had gotten his coin and that was all that mattered. Except, Geralt was weak to Jaskier’s pleas, his decision swayed as Jaskier began to pout and beg.

“Alright, fine, Jaskier,” he had all but shouted, catching the attention of several people around them. 

With a delighted laugh, Jaskier led them into the tavern which was where Geralt found himself now, forgoing the table in the corner that he had so desired in favor of one closer to Jaskier. Even if his job was finished, Geralt still had his task of keeping an eye on Jaskier.

Jaskier had drawn a crowd easily and only a few dared to have conversation as Jaskier sang his heart out. There were no suspicious faces yet and Geralt took this moment to relax with his ale. As much as he would deny it, he liked hearing Jaskier sing, the range of his voice surprising Geralt from one day to the next. A familiar thought wiggled into his mind, the one that wanted Jaskier to sing always. He knew all he had to do was just ask, but whether it was pride or fear, Geralt kept his desires a secret.

Just as Jaskier hit a high note, the door to the tavern flew open and Jaskier suddenly went quiet. 

Geralt’s eyes snapped up from his drink and there in the doorway stood none other than Yennefer of Vengerberg. She had a pleased grin on her face, her cloak swooping behind her and Geralt could only smirk as Jaskier sidled away from her and to the safety of the bar. Geralt waited as Yennefer approached him, the tavern going back to its usual antics as she stopped in front of his table. 

“Geralt, I need to borrow your bard.”

Geralt regarded Yennefer as she stood with a hand on her hip. She didn’t look any worse for the wear and her mood was in rare form.

“He’s not my bard,” Geralt muttered, sparing a glance for Jaskier who was chatting up anyone who would listen.

“Oh, so your true love then? You’re finally admitted it?” Yennefer grinned evilly. 

Geralt grunted, his grip on his tankard tightening. “Mind your own business.”

“Geralt, honestly,” Yennefer rolled his eyes. “He loves you and you love him. Just tell him already.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Geralt looked at Yennefer again. He searched for any signs of teasing, a cruel prank about to jump out, but when none came, Geralt could only stare at her in confusion.

“Yes, Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, loves you, Geralt of Rivia.”

“Since when do you know his entire name?” Geralt muttered over the rim of his tankard.

Yennefer rolled his eyes with a sigh. “That’s what you’re choosing to focus on?”

“You said you wanted to borrow him. It’s not my permission you need. Ask the man yourself,” Geralt changed the subject with clenched teeth. 

“Idiot,” Yennefer huffed under her breath before she turned sharply on her heel. 

She easily pushed others out of the way and had Jaskier all to herself at the bar. There was a twinge of jealousy as Yennefer wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, only provoked more when Yennefer gave Geralt a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

Ignoring that as best he could, Geralt watched as Yennefer talked to Jaskier, curiosity growing with Jaskier’s widening eyes. When Jaskier nodded, Yennefer turned to Geralt, giving him a sickly sweet wave before she left the tavern. Jaskier weaved through the crowd and settled at Geralt’s table, dazed as he sat near the man. 

“That good?” Geralt asked. “Or that bad?”

“Can’t decide yet,” Jaskier bit his lip. “But it’s an interesting job. I’ll have to go to Posada.”

“Fine by me,” Geralt shrugged. 

Jaskier’s eyes darted around, his shoulders hunching as he fidgeted. There was something Jaskier was hiding, but Geralt didn’t want to play any guessing games. 

“Do you need me to come along?” Geralt broke Jaskier’s far-away gaze. 

“Oh, um, no,” Jaskier answered too quickly. “I’ll be fine. Certainly, I’ll be more than fine. I think.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, but said no more. He’d be trailing behind Jaskier regardless, not that Jaskier needed to know. Something was bound to turn sour, either by Yennefer herself or the situation at hand. Jaskier had a knack for getting into just the right amount of chaos. 

Jaskier then drank deeply from his tankard and once he was finished, he let out a loud sigh. “She’ll come for me tomorrow. I better finish entertaining the crowd.”

Giving Jaskier an encouraging nod, Geralt went to settle back into his seat when Jaskier squeezed his arm. 

“You needn’t wait up for me if you’re tired, darling.”

There it was. That insufferable pet name that made Geralt almost shiver. Almost. 

The first time Jaskier had used it, Geralt wasn’t able to get it out of his mind. Then, he found Jaskier used it generously and the sheen should’ve worn off. Yet after all this time, it still managed to catch Geralt off guard.

“Who will keep you out of trouble?” Geralt finally found his voice. 

Jaskier was pleased to say the least and he bounded to the center of the room, calling attention to him. Now this, Geralt could handle. No one was looking at him and he was allowed to stare at Jaskier all he wanted. 

If what Yennefer had said was true, then perhaps it was time for Geralt to let his feelings be known. Jaskier’s job came first however and Geralt decided that after the adventures in Posada were wrapped up, he’d finally be able to hold Jaskier in his arms.

* * *

The next day was a whirlwind as Jaskier was pounced upon and dragged through a portal after listlessly waiting an entire morning. 

He heaved when Yennefer landed them on a cobblestone street, nausea hitting him in waves. 

“Oh, it can’t be that bad,” Yennefer grabbed his arm, hauling him in the direction of a small cottage. 

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been portaling for many more years than me,” Jaskier bit.

There was a slight familiarity to the streets, but it had been quite a while since Jaskier had been in Posada. How far he had come. Some days he couldn’t believe it.

“You’re making me sound so old,” Yennefer sighed. “Whatever is a lady to do?”

Jaskier laughed at this, hardly noticing Yennefer’s arm hooked with his own. “Working on your poetry, Yennefer?”

“Need help with yours, Bard?” She poked back.

She unlocked the door to the cottage and Jaskier was greeted by the sight of a rather plain room. There was a table in the center, a staircase to the left, and herbs all along one wall. He recognized Triss as she stood by the fireplace at the back wall, throwing ingredients into a small cauldron. 

“Yes, I know it’s not a castle,” Yennefer interrupted his staring with a small nudge.

“Not that,” Jaskier shook his head and a teasing thought entered his mind. “I’m just surprised by the lack of portraits.”

“Well, as vain as I am, Triss wouldn’t let me,” Yennefer sighed dramatically.

“If you two don’t shut up right now, I’ll cast a silencing spell on you both.”

Jaskier froze as Triss glared at him and Yennefer, only relaxing a little when Yennefer let him go and sidled close to Triss, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. 

“Just a bit of friendly banter. We mean no harm to each other.”

Triss muttered something under her breath and then turned her attention to Jaskier. “Sit. You’re a friend, not a captive.”

Jaskier let out a sharp laugh, settling into the chair closest to him. “I like your herb wall, Triss. It’s like being in the forest. Very...leafy.”

Triss raised an eyebrow at this. “Not the compliment I was expecting, but thank you, Jaskier.”

A cup of tea was set down in front of Jaskier before Yennefer took the chair next to him, sparing a glance towards Triss as she cleared her throat. 

“Is there anything from yesterday you need clarification on?”

Jaskier bit his lip before taking a sip of the tea. It warmed him instantly and the taste was a familiar comfort of home, cinnamon and honey hitting him in waves. 

“Why is my disguise a ‘lady of the night’?,” he quoted Yennefer.

“It’s just a simple disguise,” Yennefer answered with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Enough to lure the men, enough to protect your actual identity,” 

“Yes, of course. Makes perfect sense,” Jaskier poked holes in Yennefer’s statement. 

There was a mumble from Triss as she took some herbs off the wall and Jaskier wondered how much of this was Yennefer’s idea exactly.

“Well, if you don’t want to help us now–” Yennefer began before Jaskier was quick to interrupt.

“–I didn’t say that. I was simply critiquing your methods.”

Triss covered her mouth, holding back a laugh, while Yennefer simply glared.

“It’s the best I could come up with on such short notice. You have something better?” Yennefer spoke, her voice on the edge of dangerous.

“Probably,” Jaskier shrugged. “But I already agreed to go along with this one. Might be fun.”

“Fun,” Triss repeated, a small sigh leaving her. “At least you’re optimistic.”

“As ever,” Jaskier grinned.

With a small smile, Yennefer made sure Jaskier understood the risks, as simple as his part was. A group of rough vagabonds finding their freedom in Posada had boded well for no one and they needed to be put in their place. Of course, Yennefer and Triss didn’t want to do it any ordinary way. It had to be with a flourish.

Jaskier found himself eager through all of this, the prospect of having a new song to write overpowering his common sense. Details would be changed, naturally, but it would be a tale to be sung for the ages.

A hearty meal later saw dusk approaching and Jaskier settling in for the night. There was a mission to be had in a day’s time, but until then, it was relaxing into the bed and missing Geralt just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

When it was time to get ready for the job, Jaskier’s nerves began to act up. He had planned out various lines, ways to get the gang’s attention the night before, but now, with the reality of the situation, he was beginning to doubt himself. 

He could sing, but he wondered how far his acting would get him. Yennefer’s reassurances couldn’t really be called that as she merely ushered him into her room and sat him down at a small table in the corner of the room. 

Immediately, he was overwhelmed by the sight of various dishes and bottles on the small vanity in front of him. 

“I don’t know how to use any of this,” Jaskier frowned.

“You don’t need much,” Yennefer said as she picked up a brush and dipped it in red paste. “Lips, eyes, then we’ll get you the dress and wig.”

“What’s wrong with my own hair?” Jaskier retorted, examining himself in the mirror.

Perhaps he was just having a bad hair day. Then, Yennefer blocked his view, waiting expectantly with the brush. He opened his mouth slightly as Yennefer painted his lips, one hand gently cupping his cheek.

“Do you want to be recognized in any way?” Yennefer scolded, pressing her lips together and waited for Jaskier to mimic her. 

“I suppose not,” Jaskier agreed with a small sigh. “Imagine if Valdo Marx came across me or some old Oxenfurt mates.”

“Exactly,” Yennefer then swirled a finger around in a bowl of black powder. “Close your eyes.”

Jaskier did as he was told, jerking only slightly when he felt Yennefer’s finger on his eyelid. With a few swipes the job was done and Jaskier opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. 

“I look like a bruxa who’s had too much to drink.”

Yennefer’s mouth dropped open in mock offense. “Well, it’s certainly not my makeup skills. Close your eyes again.”

“Excuse me, are you saying my face is ugly?” Jaskier balked.

Yennefer gave Jaskier a teasing smile that he scowled at before doing as she asked. The eyeliner was drawn on in quick swipes and when Jaskier looked at himself again, he was a bit more satisfied with the look. At the very least, the lipstick was growing on him. He followed Yennefer to the other side of the room, leaning against the bed as she threw open the door of her wardrobe.

“Promise me you won’t ruin too much. I know we’re not near the same size, but we’ll make this work.”

Jaskier nodded, his words cut off as Yennefer threw various articles of clothing into Jaskier’s arms. Jaskier recognized everything, having the pleasure of taking them off a fine person one time or another, yet never trying them on himself. He blushed a little, unsure of where to start. 

“What do you think?” Yennefer then procured a bright yellow dress. 

Jaskier blinked, but at the simplicity or the color, he wasn’t sure. It shimmered in the candlelight, the waist fitted as the skirt billowed out. The fabric looked soft and smooth, making Jaskier bite his lip. He wanted to wear this.

Yennefer grinned and hung the dress on the outside of the wardrobe. “Start undressing. I’ll get you in the corset.”

Beginning to disrobe, Jaskier paused when he saw distinct fabric and he pulled it out from the pile of clothes. It was silk underwear, something Jaskier wasn’t unfamiliar with, but of all things to put on, he wasn’t expecting this. 

“How far do you want me to go?” Jaskier set the underwear on top of the pile.

“Wear what you want,” Yennefer said, distracted by her nails. “I just pulled out what I could grab.”

Pursing his lips, Jaskier stripped himself of his doublet and chemise, then clearing his throat to get Yennefer to help with the corset.

“Hm,” Yennefer studied Jaskier a little too closely. 

“What?” Jaskier covered himself. “You’re acting like Geralt.”

Yennefer raised her eyebrows at this, her mouth quirking in amusement. “Your chest. It’s...hairier than I remember.”

“I’m not shaving it.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’ll just put a temporary glamour spell on it,” Yennefer waved dismissively.

Jaskier blinked as another thought came to his mind. “Will I have breasts too?”

“Do you want a pair?” Yennefer asked with genuine curiosity, her finger tapping her chin.

Jaskier thought it over, peering down at his chest. “Next time.”

Yennefer chuckled at this and grabbed the corset, helping Jaskier into it. Once Jaskier was cinched up, Yennefer began to tighten the laces even more, yanking so much that Jaskier lost his balance multiple times. 

“Does it really have to be this tight?” he winced. 

“Yes,” Yennefer pulled the laces impossibly tighter. “Besides, it’s giving you a nice shape.”

“My shape is fine, thank you very much,” Jaskier bit back.

Yennefer hummed, a smile evident as she spoke. “Geralt thinks so too.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jaskier asked, his voice quieter than usual. 

This made Yennefer pause, but not before she gave a final tug and tied the corset in place. “Jaskier, are you really that oblivious?”

In the momentary silence, the realization hit Jaskier and he turned to look at Yennefer. “Wait, Geralt..likes me?”

Yennefer nodded with a sly grin. Jaskier could tell she knew more than she was saying, but at the moment he cared more about what he just learned. Jaskier couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his face, excitement bubbling in his chest. He had a chance with Geralt after all. More than a chance. 

“All right, lover, get the rest of your clothes on,” Yennefer patted his shoulder.

Once Yennefer turned away, Jaskier did just that. He couldn’t help be a little self-conscious, despite the fact that he had seen more than enough of her and the very first time they had met as well. He supposed it was because she knew what Geralt looked like and Jaskier didn’t want to be compared.

With a resolved breath, Jaskier put on the silk underwear followed by the white stockings that Yennefer had thrown at him. He didn’t want to admit how nice the fabric felt against his skin out loud and quickly stepped into the yellow dress, holding it up as he waited for Yennefer.

When Yennefer turned back around, she instantly grinned. “I knew that would be a good look on you.”

Jaskier blushed as he waited for Yennefer to button him up. “Have you thought about me in a dress before?” 

“I can’t reveal all my secrets,” Yennefer teased as she quickly fastened the dress.

Once finished, Yennefer took Jaskier’s hand and led him over to the full-length mirror tucked away in a corner. Jaskier could scarcely believe it was him and he spun around, unable to stop his smile. The dress flowed out from him, the fabric folding gently with his spin. If he had known how good he felt dressing up, he would’ve done this ages ago.

“Now, the wig,” Yennefer held it out as if she were presenting a trophy.

“Oh no. It looks like a dead rabbit. Yen, do I really have to?”

Taken aback by the nickname, both Yennefer and Jaskier looked away from each other. They’d been hopping around friendship for years, but they weren’t about to admit anything just now.

With a little huff, Yennefer put the wig on Jaskier, tucking his real hair out of the way. The color was a close enough match and once straightened out, the dead-rabbit appearance was long gone. 

“I certainly won’t be growing out my hair any time soon,” Jaskier touched the unnatural locks. 

“Think about it,” Yennefer patted his shoulder. “Geralt could braid your hair after you braid his.”

The very idea sent a rush of heat to Jaskier’s face. A whole world was opening up to him, now knowing he and Geralt could be so much more. The next time he saw Geralt wouldn’t be soon enough.

“One last thing,” Yennefer brought Jaskier back to the task at hand. 

In her hand was a small dagger and sheath, easy to hide, but certainly able to do its damage. There was a strap and buckle as well and Jaskier was quick to guess where he had to hide it.

“I imagine you know how to use this.”

Jaskier nodded, opening the slit of his dress and strapping the dagger around his thigh. 

“Those stockings look good on you. I may never wear them again,” Yennefer teased. 

Jaskier gave her a wink which got a laugh out of Yennefer. He couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at this, following Yennefer down the stairs where Triss stood waiting. 

Triss’s eyes went wide for a moment before she caught herself. “Well, I’ve seen worse.”

“Ha ha,” Jaskier enunciated. 

Yennefer held the door to the cottage open and Jaskier stepped out first. He waved his goodbye to Triss, despite the fact that he would be seeing her in a few minutes. The streets were lit by lamps, but they were a weak excuse, darkness still engulfing most of the village. 

Jaskier took a breath and headed to the destination alone, knowing better than to look behind him. He knew Yennefer would be close, but worry still wiggled in at the back of his mind. He straightened his pose as he found the gang just where Yennefer said they would be, his presence certainly not going unnoticed. Jaskier was quick to put on an air of grace, flaunting what he thought were the best parts of his body.

“Hello there,” Jaskier pitched his voice. “You gentlemen looking for some fun?”

“Depends,” one man leered at Jaskier. “How much do you charge?”

Jaskier put on a false smile as his skin crawled. “Why don’t I give you a preview and then you can decide?”

The men talked amongst themselves before the supposed leader motioned for Jaskier to continue on. With a coy wink, Jaskier turned, simply walking as Yennefer had instructed. As he led the men down the street, Jaskier kept his conversation light, flashing sweet smiles over his shoulder. When Yennefer appeared at last, Jaskier did all he could to not run to her. 

“What is this?” the leader growled. 

One man grabbed hold of Jaskier, but before Jaskier could make any noise, a knife pressed at his throat. Jaskier’s body froze, fear taking over his senses as he let himself be held captive. 

“Let her go, she’s got nothing to do with this,” Yennefer snarled at the group.

The knife on Jaskier’s throat dug further as the men spat insults at Yennefer. Trying to steady his breathing, Jaskier then remembered the dagger on his thigh. His next move would be risky, but at this moment, there were little choices left.

Meeting Yennefer’s eyes for just a moment, Jaskier tapped a finger against his thigh and Yennefer gave the slightest tilt of her head. The wind whipped around them as Yennefer held out her hand, but she paused as a portal opened up behind her.

Triss stepped out then, spell ready in her hands. The smile on her face was absolutely chilling. 

“Gentlemen,” she greeted and gave a short nod to Jaskier. “And m’lady.”

Jaskier did not miss the teasing in her voice, but he could only manage a weak laugh with a knife dangerously close to his windpipe.

The moment was a standstill as Triss addressed the men, but the words washed over Jaskier’s ears. This was his chance. Slowly, Jaskier fumbled around for the dagger strapped to his thigh. With most eyes off of him, Jaskier worked quickly, pulling the dagger out and then stabbing it into the man’s arm. A scream shattered the night and the next thing Jaskier knew, the knife at his throat slid across his skin before he was free from the man’s grip. Jaskier hardly noticed the fresh cut on his neck, his eyes wide as he saw that Yennefer and Triss were caught in scuffles with the remaining men. 

“Run!” Yennefer commanded.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Jaskier fled down the street, his balance thrown off by the heeled shoes. He grabbed onto the stone buildings for balance, keeping an eye out for markers that would lead him home as he managed to get the dagger back into its sheath. 

Turning down a familiar street, Jaskier glanced over his shoulder before he crashed into someone large. They grabbed onto his arms and Jaskier fought against the strong hands that held him.

“Jaskier, stop.”

Jaskier froze, slowly looking up to his captor. With a laugh, Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck, a tight hug, but then pulled back with a frown. 

“How could you tell it was me?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Yennefer can dress you up all she likes, but your stench is undeniable.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier gaped and pushed him lightly. “You cad. I smell lovely, thank you very much.”

“Hm. Next time, don’t put on such a strong scent.” 

Even in the low light, Jaskier could see the hint of teasing in Geralt’s eyes. “Oh, as if you have any say in that. Besides, I’m not wearing any perfumes.”

“I know.” 

Jaskier glared at him, just barely catching the small laugh that left Geralt. 

“You and your witcher senses,” Jaskier grumbled, smoothing down the front of the dress. “Well, it looks like my end of the bargain is done and–”

“–You’re hurt,” Geralt interrupted. 

Jaskier's hand snapped up to his neck and he covered the cut. “Just a scratch.”

“Where is the safehouse?” Geralt demanded, taking hold of Jaskier’s arm. 

With a sigh, Jaskier motioned down the road and let Geralt cling to him as they walked. Jaskier pulled his hand away, spotting only a small smear of blood as they passed under the lamps. The wound didn’t sting and he couldn’t see any stains on the dress.

“I’m alive, Geralt. I don’t want one injury to prevent me from doing a job like this again.”

“It never does,” Geralt muttered.

Jaskier raised his eyebrow and bit down his smile. While he tried to be careful when he could, he didn’t mind when Geralt fussed over him. It was sweet to see Geralt’s softer side, even if he got an earful at the same time.

When they at last reached the cottage, Jaskier whispered the password into the keyhole and the door swung open. Geralt practically carried him inside, sitting him at the table as he tried to find his way through the layout of the room. Jaskier watched Geralt with amusement, soon finding bandages and various bottles in front of him. 

“Tilt your head,” Geralt motioned. 

Jaskier did as he was told and Geralt poured some clear liquid over his wound, causing Jaskier to hiss in pain. Perhaps it was deeper than he realized, especially since Geralt had taken to holding a cloth to his neck. 

“Can you take the wig off?” Geralt’s eyes darted up and down the length of hair.

“What if it’s my actual hair?” Jaskier teased. 

Geralt made a noise that rumbled in his chest. “You’re too vain for that.”

“You’re insufferable,” Jaskier rolled his eyes as he pulled off the wig. 

His short hair tried to fall back to its usual places, but Jaskier felt some of it sticking out and he was sure he looked ridiculous. He waited for the jokes to come, but Geralt had gotten too into his work. He wrapped the bandage around Jaskier’s neck, his touches light and careful, as he studied the area. Jaskier fidgeted under Geralt’s stare, practically feeling the heat from it down to his bones. 

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asked, a hand still on Jaskier’s neck. 

“What do you mean?” Jaskier tried to play innocent. 

He knew it was useless, especially with Geralt’s senses, but Jaskier wasn’t about to admit anything right now. He wanted his confession to be perfect and the situation at the moment was not ideal. 

“Your pulse quickened just now,” Geralt’s tone was serious. 

Jaskier cursed himself inwardly and tried to steady his breathing. “Geralt,” he shot up and out of range from the other man. “I’m fine.”

He was, in fact, not fine. Jaskier could feel his racing heart, the rush from earlier still coursing through his system. Then, with Geralt so close, taking care of him, it was almost too much. Jaskier wanted it all, for the two of them to just fall into each other without having to say a single word.

Geralt continued to stare at him and Jaskier thought to run upstairs. The only problem with that was Geralt, who blocked the way. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt spoke, a slight rumble on the edge. 

Jaskier swallowed, feeling his composure crumbling to pieces. Here he was, dressed in finer clothes, injured, and exposed to Geralt. The silence in the room was maddening and when a hand landed on his shoulder, Jaskier yelped. 

“Sorry,” Geralt was quick to apologize and he took his hand back. “Just thought you should maybe lie down.”

“Yes, that might be…” Jaskier began to agree, yet neither him or Geralt made a move towards the staircase. 

With his thoughts colliding together, Jaskier stumbled, easily captured in Geralt’s arms. He dared to look into Geralt’s eyes and his breath caught in his throat. The two rushed forward, lips crashing together as they held onto each other. Jaskier moaned appreciatively, giving Geralt’s tongue access as he explored all of Jaskier’s mouth. It made him weak in the knees, knowing that all along, Geralt could kiss like this.

Geralt broke their embrace for only a moment to sweep Jaskier off his feet and carry him in his arms bridal style. Jaskier scrambled to keep his hold on Geralt, but soon all was forgotten as their heated kiss began again. 

Somehow, beyond Jaskier’s lust-filled thoughts, Geralt had managed to get them up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. Geralt let Jaskier gain his footing back on the ground before shooting down to his knees and running his hand along Jaskier’s leg that stuck out from the slit of the dress. Jaskier could do hardly a thing at all beyond tangling his hand in Geralt’s hair, begging for more.

Geralt was slow, teasing, a hand trailing higher until it reached the dagger on Jaskier’s thigh. 

“Any other secrets I should know about?” Geralt teased, unbuckling the dagger from Jaskier’s thigh. Once the weapon was dropped to the side, Geralt’s fingers teased at the top of Jaskier’s stockings. 

“Well, why don’t you find out?” Jaskier challenged. 

Geralt’s hands then held onto Jaskier’s hips as he mouthed at the noticeable bulge amongst the yellow fabric. Jaskier gasped, holding onto Geralt for balance as Geralt gave a small suck before getting back to his feet. 

“Turn around.”

Jaskier spun, his skin anticipating Geralt’s touch. Slowly, Geralt undid the buttons of the dress, loosening them until Jaskier could get it off his arms and let the dress fall to the floor. Jaskier could hear the sharp intake of breath from Geralt and he teased him with a small smile over his shoulder. 

“Like what you see, Witcher?”

With a growl, Geralt tugged Jaskier close, burying his face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck that was free of any wounds. His hands trailed along the lace of the corset and then down to the silk underwear that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Jaskier pressed into every touch, throwing his head back as Geralt sucked a dark bruise into his skin. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed, shivering as Geralt nipped at his earlobe. 

He was desperate, wanting, needing more. His cock was straining against the silk and Geralt’s fingers just ghosting over the bulge was torture. 

“Get on the bed,” Geralt rumbled. “Lay on your back.”

Not needing to be told twice, Jaskier scrambled to the bed and laid down, keeping his arms away from his body to show every part of himself. Geralt all but tore off his own clothes until he was naked, staring at Jaskier with a feral look. Jaskier almost came from that alone, swallowing at the sight before him. Poetry was already writing itself in his mind, but his inspiration was cut short.

Geralt stalked over to Jaskier, lifting Jaskier’s hips before he tore off the silk underwear in one smooth motion. Jaskier grinned as Geralt stood back, admiring this new look with a fearsome stare. Jaskier coyly folded his legs, hiding himself, but Geralt was having none of that. He pushed Jaskier’s knees apart and dove down, licking up the length of Jaskier’s cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his legs beginning to shake. 

He could feel Geralt’s smile as the man sucked at the tip, pushing his legs further up and apart. Grasping at the sheets, Jaskier could only lay there as Geralt continued his ministrations, taking all of Jaskier’s length into his mouth. It was almost beautiful, the way Geralt sucked his cock. Heat coiled in Jaskier’s stomach, his release so close until Geralt pulled off. Jaskier whined at the loss until he was overcome with gasping breaths as Geralt’s mouth trailed further down until his tongue prodded at Jaskier’s hole. 

With a stuttered moan, Jaskier threw his head back and pushed himself down to get more of Geralt inside of him. 

“Patience, bard,” Geralt soothed, placing gentle kisses on the inside of Jaskier’s thighs.

“Geralt, if you don’t get inside me right now, I’ll just finish myself off with my hand,” Jaskier ground out.

With a smirk, Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s thighs and dragged him down the bed before he continued his attention on Jaskier’s hole. Jaskier sobbed, back arching off the bed as Geralt’s tongue flicked in and out. He was going mad, he was sure, but when a finger pressed at the tight ring of muscle, Jaskier could breathe again. 

Geralt was gentle with the intrusion of his fingers, slowly adding each digit until Jaskier was stretched open with three. Jaskier was sure he had never been so full before and he almost started laughing, knowing that Geralt’s fingers were comparable to someone’s cock. 

“Something amusing, Jaskier?” Geralt noticed the faint smile on Jaskier’s face and curled his fingers. 

Jaskier gasped and turned his head to the side, attempting to bury his heated face in the sheets. 

“N–nothing,” Jaskier stammered, pleasure shooting up his spine as Geralt hit his prostate. “Again, Geralt, please.”

Another shove of Geralt’s fingers and Jaskier could feel his cock twitch with anticipation. His moan rang in his ears before he suddenly felt empty. Snapping his eyes open, Jaskier looked up to see Geralt looming over him. There was a dark smirk on Geralt’s face as he grabbed Jaskier by the hips and flipped him over. 

Jaskier gasped at the sudden movement, then bracing himself on his hands and knees, keening at the sensation of Geralt’s cock brushing in between his thighs. When Geralt pushed the tip in, Jaskier didn’t hold back his moan, wiggling his hips to get more of Geralt in him. 

“Faster,” Jaskier gritted his teeth, but Geralt continued his slow pace. 

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Geralt teased as he leaned over Jaskier and pinched one of his nipples. 

Jaskier bit down on his lip, his whole body shaking. “Geralt,” he begged. 

There was a hot breath on his neck before Geralt shoved into him all the way, both groaning together. Jaskier fell onto his forearms and pressed his head against the sheets as Geralt pulled out just until his tip was inside Jaskier. Geralt snapped his hips forward and Jaskier moaned into the bed, his body overcome with pleasure. Geralt continued his slow, rough pace until Jaskier cried out, then awakening something in both of them. With a growl, Geralt yanked Jaskier up until his chest was flush against Jaskier’s back and Geralt began his harsh thrusting again, but this time speeding up with Jaskier’s explicit noises. 

Geralt’s arms were wrapped around Jaskier’s waist as he shoved in, holding him tight as Jaskier grasped and clawed at Geralt’s hair. 

Their moans filled the room amongst skin slapping together, the men losing themselves in each other. When Geralt grabbed hold of Jaskier’s cock, Jaskier’s eyes rolled back and he shuddered with every stroke. The combination of Geralt’s cock and his hand were enough to send Jaskier over the edge and he cried out as his release spilled onto his stomach and chest. He went limp in Geralt’s arms as Geralt continued thrusting until he reached his own climax, filling Jaskier up. 

In the sudden silence, Jaskier turned his head, placing a kiss on Geralt’s cheek. Their eyes met and they leaned in for a kiss when the door flew open. 

Jaskier and Geralt froze as Yennefer stood in the doorway, realizing her mistake as her gaze trailed up and down their bodies. Then, she groaned.

“Oh no. Jaskier, what have you done to my corset?”

With his seed coating the corset mixed with the mingled sweat, it was to say the very least, ruined.

“You’re the one who let me borrow it,” Jaskier retorted, suddenly not caring that he and Geralt were essentially nude and in the throes of post-orgasm. 

A loud cackle came from Triss downstairs and Jaskier blushed. Apparently the mission had gone just fine after his departure.

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to have sex in it,” Yennefer sighed. “Alright. It’s fine. I’ll just have you both buy me a new one.”

“Yennefer,” Geralt interrupted, both Jaskier and Yennefer looking at him in surprise. “Close the fucking door.”

With a nonchalant wave, Yennefer did as she was asked, the door shutting with a firm click, and Geralt turned back to Jaskier. The two gazed at each other, a moment’s silence before both broke into laughter. They untangled themselves, falling back on the bed together as they continued to laugh and Jaskier was quite sure he had never seen a more beautiful sight. 

He held onto Geralt’s face, wanting to memorize it all, the wide smile, the way Geralt’s eyes crinkled just so. The smile was still evident, even when Geralt pulled him in for a kiss and Jaskier knew he could live in this moment forever. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable,” Geralt breathed, his fingers working at the laces of the corset. 

With a nod, Jaskier helped him and his remaining garments were discarded at last. Under the sheets, the two found each other, legs tangled and arms wrapped around each other. 

“When?” Jaskier asked. “When did you fall in love with me?”

A small smile graced Geralt’s face. “The very first time I laid eyes on you.”

“Really? Even with my abhorrent flirting?”

“Even with your abhorrent flirting,” Geralt nodded.

Jaskier’s mouth dropped open as he made an offended noise. “You weren’t supposed to agree with that, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled at this. “Not every witcher gets propositioned with bread-filled pants.”

“True,” Jaskier grinned and placed a small kiss on Geralt’s lips. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I am.”

Jaskier’s heart swelled then and with the combination of Geralt’s gaze, so loving and warm, he could feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“You know, that’s when I fell in love with you too,” Jaskier spoke past the potential waterworks. “That serious face, your bold silence. I knew I had to follow you and now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Geralt murmured.

Jaskier frowned, wondering when Geralt had started to close his eyes. “Geralt, darling, are you falling asleep on me?”

“Hm,” came Geralt’s reply, still filled with love, but exhaustion on the edges. 

“Alright. We’ll talk more in the morning,” Jaskier spoke just above a whisper.

With the soft breaths coming from Geralt, Jaskier couldn’t help running a hand down Geralt’s face. It had been quite the adventure, unexpected turns around every corner, injuries, and, of course, taking care of each other

Such was his life with Geralt and Jaskier drifted off, knowing there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> okay yeah the dress is yellow but jaskier's eyes are blue shhhhh


End file.
